Photo taken by Gil, Agape Children’s Village, Morogoro, Tanzania
Tag: Life in Tanzania Page 18 of 26
I’m in a new house.
Unless you’ve been following this blog pretty carefully, you probably don’t know why. So here goes.
We loved the house we were living in. It was a perfect size, great yard, excellent for youth group, good location. It just had one small flaw: the walls were falling down.
Sort of. All of the internal walls had these gigantic cracks running through them. Cement walls. With cracks so big that sometimes you could see all the way through to the room on the other side. And they kept getting bigger–sometimes by the week.
So the landlord sent over a contractor who checked it all out. He thought the best solution would be to knock down all the internal walls, put a better foundation under them, and then rebuild them again. They wanted to do this last summer.
Considering we had guests for the entire summer, we asked the landlord to put off the work until March, when we would be going on our Home Assignment. She agreed. In the meantime, the contractor reinforced the walls and fixed the cracks. Since then (a year ago), there have been no more cracks.
But….the landlord still wants the walls rebuilt. Even though we’ve had two of our own contractor-friends examine the house and tell us they thought that would be a waste of money. Nope. Landlord won’t be dissauded. The walls are coming down.
Only problem is that now we couldn’t take our Home Assignment in March. Which means we had to find another place to live. Finding short term housing is not easy. Twice I even asked the landlord if we could stay in the house while the work is being done. (What was I smoking? They are going to knock down all the internal cement walls and I still want to live there with two toddlers? Yeah…) But there were times I felt desperate enough to do it. Thankfully, she said no.
As of last Wednesday, we thought we had a place to move to. I had been emailing with the landlord and I thought everything was set. So I called him on Wednesday.
“We want to move in on Saturday. Can I bring the check at the same time?”
“Oh,” he tells me. “I need you to pay in cash. If you want to pay by check, you have to add on another 20%.”
What the….? Oh. Suddenly I get it. 20% is the amount of government tax. Cash. I see.
Uh, I don’t think so. No, I’m not going to pay another 20% on your already over-priced two-bedroom apartment. And no, I’m not going to pay you under the table either.
I was infuriated, to say the least. And now we had no place to go.
So we prayed. And suddenly a thought came to me. What about the house on the hill?
Sigh. The house on the hill. Our dream house. We had looked at it four years ago and it was way too expensive to rent. But it’s right next to school. Overlooks the ocean. Amazing breeze. Feels like a beach-vacation house.
And we knew it was empty right now. A new owner had just bought it. Hmmm… It will probably still be too expensive, but it was worth a shot.
We got ahold of him on Thursday. He came down in his asking price because we only wanted it for a few months. We went up in what we were willing to pay because we only wanted it for a few months. We met in the middle.
We met with him Monday to make sure. We were sure. He was sure.
And we moved in on Tuesday. (Oh my goodness, our amount of possessions have doubled with each child. How did we get so much stuff? Sell it, burn it, make it all disappear!)
Tuesday was a holiday (Mohammed’s birthday–did you know that?) so it was a good day to move. We could never have done it without Carley, Julie, Savannah, Melissa, Hannah, Caleb, Ben, Sarthak, Esta, Tumaini, Gibbie, Cecilie, and Sarthak’s mom, who made us lunch. It poured rain on Tuesday and the truck we checked out from school wasn’t there, but another friend came with his truck at the last minute.
I hate moving. Especially knowing that I will have to do it all over again in three months. But I am so thankful for friends.
And….we get to live in our dream house for a few months! It takes 81 steps from our gate to the school’s gate. I counted this morning. I can invite students over for lunch! And we have the most incredible view imaginable (pictures to come!)
So. We are exhausted but thankful. Thankful for God’s wonderful provision and undeserved blessings.
Every other year, our mission organization holds a All-Africa conference. Usually it has been held in Kenya, but this year it was in Tanzania–just about a mile away from our house! Even though it was so close, last week we still packed up and drove down to stay at the hotel with everyone else. It was a wonderful five days.
There were about 100 people there: half either missionaries or national leaders from Africa, and half from the States, including a large team from a church in Tenessee, who ministered to us in music, prayer, and child care.
I was blessed by the African national pastors…godly, strong men, all from countries recently devastated by war–yet planting dozens of churches a year. And for the first time in about 18 years, I got to hear real Liberian English…what a joy to my heart!
I was blessed by the missionaries from the other African countries. The vast majority of missionaries there used to serve in Zaire–now known as Congo–and have now been dispersed to other countries because of the war. But the movement of churches in Congo is the second largest in the entire world for our denomiation, second only to the U.S. This group has been serving God in Africa for decades…they all speak multiple languages…they are such an example of faithfulness and sacrifice.
One day, out of curiousity, I counted the career missionaries in the room: 27.
Number of those who are in their 50’s or 60’s: 20
Number of those who are under 40 years old: 7, counting Gil and I. And all of us are in our 30’s.
Where is the next generation? Who will replace them? “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.”
The best part of the conference was getting to spend time with friends that I rarely get to see. Emily and her husband live a couple hours away from us, but they have two adopted kids that are the same age as our kids, so we have a lot in common.
Grace’s two best friends: McKayla and Caleb.
Caleb says to his Mommy: “Isn’t Grace beautiful?”
Grace says to her Mommy: “I’m going to marry my friend Caleb.”
We think it’s a great match!
Josiah is a little fish, just like his sister. Whenever he is in the pool, all he wants to do is repeatedly throw himself in, face first. Guess he trusts us to pick him up every time!
Grace and McKayla entertained each other by coming up with as many ways as possible to go down the water slides.
Gil got up for the sunrise a couple mornings and this was his reward.
For the second time since we’ve come to live in Africa—almost six years—we’ve been without electricity for more than 24 hours.
The power went off Monday evening. Now it is Friday evening. It is still off.
Tuesday afternoon…I know the routine now. Take everything out of the freezer and lug it to the freezer at school. Take some stuff out of the fridge and put it in the freezer, which is still somewhat cold. Throw out a bunch of stuff. So much for planning ahead by making extra leftovers.
And so the days have progressed.
Keep the kids occupied. I spend more time face-to-face with my kids—that’s a good thing! Can’t work on my computer, can’t bake anything that needs refrigeration, can’t do a lot of things I usually do. They can’t watch TV or listen to music. So we play. Games, puzzles, the sprinkler outside. They get extra time in the bath.
Figure out what to make for dinner. Thankful for my gas stove. Think of something that uses only non-perishables and won’t create any leftovers. Kids get powdered milk. Lots of tuna and peanut butter. My friends in the village have assured me that mayo doesn’t need refrigeration—I am trusting them! After dinner…quick! Get cleaned up, get the kids into the bath and into bed before it gets too dark to see.
Light candles. All the rechargeable flashlights are no longer charged. Gil stays home in the dark. I run to school for a precious hour or so to get some work done….emails written, on-line coursework, lesson planning for my sixth grade Bible class.
I come home; Gil leaves to sleep at a friend’s house. It’s a little cooler than it was when this happened in December, but still too hot for my very warm-blooded husband to sleep without A/C or a fan.
Darkness surrounds me. I’m not used to it being so dark. Or so quiet. I’m used to white noise. The kids sleep fine, of course….but I jump at every noise. I make sure my hair is very wet before going to bed. I watch something on my computer until the battery runs out. Thankfully, sleep comes.
The uncertainty of it all is hardest. We call the power company daily—“It will be fixed today!” they tell us. Every day. So do we wait this out? Go to someone’s house? Certainly it will only be one more day….
And then there’s the battle.
“I can’t live like this!!!”
Yes, you can. My grace is sufficient.
“I’m hot; I’m tired. I don’t get to see my husband. I can’t cook, can’t entertain, can’t get any work done.”
Yes, you can. My grace is sufficient. Get creative. Choose joy.
So I think on Zimbabwe. And the millions there who are starving or sick from cholera because of a tyrannical ruler. Where a day’s wage—if you can get work—will buy you a loaf of bread—if you can find bread.
And I feel ashamed.
A missionary friend laughingly told me this week, “We Westerners are fragile creatures, aren’t we?”
Indeed. Of course, I don’t like to think of myself that way—after all, I am a missionary in Africa! But I am not as strong as I would like to think I am.
My grace is sufficient.
Sometimes, this week, I have won the battle and chosen joy. Sometimes I have been grumpy. I hope I’m doing better this time than last month when this happened.
Hmmm. I wonder how many times God will let this happen until I learn it completely?
We interrupt the Christmas posts for another adventure…..
I’ve always been the one in charge of paying the bills in this family. I remember the good ol’ days when paying bills consisted of sitting down with the checkbook one evening every month and writing a bunch of checks.
Not so anymore.
Everything is paid in cash, in person in Tanzania. For example:
Cell phone: Pre-paid phone cards. This is pretty easy because phone cards are sold everywhere.
Electricity: Purchased in cash at the Luku shop. They give me credit on a little card which I then insert into a small box in our house, and we are then recharged with electricity.
Internet: 4O minute drive into town, over to the PPF Towers building, go up to the 15th floor, pre-pay for the next three months in cash.
Water: This is the only utility that isn’t pre-paid. Someone stops by our house every month and delivers the bill. Then I go to the water company and pay…in cash.
Garbage: The garbage men honk at the gate once a month and I bring them their fee.
I’ve gotten pretty used to all of this. But yesterday threw me for a loop.
Our yearly car registration is overdue. I mistakenly assumed the wrong due date, so I realized a few days ago that we passed the deadline. Oops….praying, praying every time I pass a police officer that we won’t get pulled over [happens a lot for no particular reason].
In the past, we’ve had the ‘go-fer’ at school take care of our registration renewal for us. But since it was overdue, I decided to tackle it myself, even though I had never done it before. Hey, I thought, if I can handle the process of two adoptions, I can certainly get our car registration renewed.
So Gil helped me look up the location on a map, since I have absolutely no sense of direction. No problem, I thought, I can find it.
Drive downtown. It wasn’t in the place I assumed. No problem, I thought, I’ll go down the street in the other direction. Oops. One way street. I turn and take the parallel street. Oops. Another one way street. Now I am hopelessly lost.
But the traffic downtown is so congested that I can’t pull over for a while. Finally I find a place, and a kind parking attendant points me in the right direction.
I park at two places and someone tells me I can’t park there. Finally I park way down the street and walk to the building. It had already taken me one hour and 45 minutes to get to this point.
The place is teaming with people. I am the only white person, and the only female. I find the right window and get the right forms. Then I notice that everyone around me already has receipts. I spot the only female customer and notice that she is also renewing her registration.
‘Can you help me?’
‘Sure!’ She is pleasant. ‘You first have to go to the bank next door, pay, and get a receipt. Then you have to go to the third floor and get a stamp. Then you can come back to here and turn it all in.’
Sigh. I go next door to the bank. There are 4O people in line. I get in line and look at the form I’m supposed to fill out. I can’t do it. It’s even in English, but I have no idea what to write down. Plus I notice people around me with different paperwork than I brought with me.
At this point I am near tears. I call a friend who is Tanzanian and is the facilities manager for our school. ‘What do I do?’ I ask. ‘You should get George [the go-fer] to do it,’ he tells me.
Yep. I don’t care how much time I’ve wasted, or whether the police give me a ticket. Having George do it sounds like a great idea.
Last night another friend told me about a different location that is much easier to get the job done. So maybe next week I will be brave enough to try again.
But hey…on my way back to my car I found a great little bookstore with some kids’ books in Swahili for Grace. So it wasn’t a total loss. 🙂